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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25224424">Push and Pull</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/skinhunger/pseuds/skinhunger'>skinhunger</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, confusing perspectives maybe, italics abuse, switching POV</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 02:00:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,036</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25224424</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/skinhunger/pseuds/skinhunger</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of one shots, snippets, and other things for my favorite pairing that may eventually become their own separate stories.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>42</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Siren Call (Fantasy: Siren!Jamie x Berserker!Brienne)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>uhhh hi hello i'm very new to this whole writing fanfiction thing and i'm just very in love with jaime and brienne. and i'm not about to be all self deprecating like our favorite duo is sometimes but i don't usually write much and just kind of wanted to post these snippets that i make that i can't get out of my head. i like to go by book appearances or some variation thereof. no beta, we die like men.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jamie never expected to like her. Much less like teasing her the way he did. Yet here he was, grinning fiercely at the warrior maiden across from him. Brienne came charging, and he was only just able to meet the swing of her sword. Jamie couldn't help the savage smile he gave her. He wanted to laugh in delight, but every ounce of concentration was needed for today's sparring match. He didn't understand what he did to invoke the righteous fury of Brienne the Berserker on this day, but his Siren's Call was singing loud and clear. He felt strongest when facing against her, truly, for few were his equal bar those who relied on sheer brutality. The onlookers that gathered cheered and cajoled them both, their blood running hot as if they were the ones engaged in combat. If he wasn't careful, there'd be an outright brawl. <em> Mortals, so susceptible to the voice of war</em>. A parry, a thrust, a turn and dodge. Their movements became faster and faster as the spar continued on. Dust clouded the air as their flurry of footwork carried them across the training yard. Her grunts and grimaces couldn't be covered even by the noise of the raucous crowd surrounding them. Again, their blades locked. With their faces close together Jamie could now see her fearsome expression. A snarl twisted her mouth, brows furrowed over a piercing gaze. A shiver wound up his spine. She denied being supernatural, but those eyes tell a different story. No mere mortal has anything like those eyes.</p><p> </p><p>"Stand down, Kingslayer."</p><p> </p><p>Ah, she was truly mad then.</p><p> </p><p>"Wench, surely you know better than to use words against the likes of me."</p><p> </p><p>His smile became cutting. In irritation at being called such, he twisted harshly, shoving her away from him. Brienne stumbled back, her sword arm held out from her body as she hissed in pain. Unrelenting, he closed the gap again and struck the flat of her blade, knocking it to the ground. It happened so fast after that. With a roar she planted both hands on his breastplate and pushed. He went crashing. In an instant, blade in hand again she ran. He was up on his knees when she reached him. Using his own move against him, Jaime found himself weaponless and then she had the audacity to boot him in his chest.</p><p> </p><p>"Yield Kingslayer, if you move again I will ruin that pretty mug of yours."</p><p> </p><p>Sprawled beneath her, he could only take shallow breaths as he gazed upon her. It was almost poetic, the way the sun shined down on her and her wild appearance. <em>In this light, I could lose myself in her completely. Those freckles. The sun even highlights the bow on that plump mouth of hers. Just seeing the sweat of her brow like this- watching it drip down and underneath her armor- No, I can't think of this right now! </em>He shook his head to dispel the train of thought. Jaime smiled up at her, tilting his head.</p><p> </p><p>"Brienne, you think I'm pretty?"</p><p> </p><p>He batted his eyes at her, playing coy. The snarl deepened.</p><p> </p><p>"You wonder why I'm cross?<em> This. </em> You won't stop even when I ask."</p><p> </p><p>His battle high was promptly ruined as annoyance came up at the mention of whatever <em> this </em>was. Again. "I cannot stop if you don't even bother to tell me-"</p><p> </p><p>"You know what you're doing! I have no need to explain-"</p><p> </p><p>"Well clearly there is a need if I can't just STOP-" He paused to contain his frustration and quiet himself, hands clenched into fists, "Stop whatever- Gods, Brienne I don't know what in the seven hells you're talking about! How many times must I tell you?" The crowd had dispersed moments earlier upon seeing Brienne win today's round, but he did not wish them to linger for this part anyhow. All of the Red Keep knew they bickered and fought between themselves as soon as one laid eyes on the other. But this was a particular vein of conversation he didn't want overheard. “And will you <em> let me up?  </em>While I certainly don’t mind you on top of me-” The jape was evidently going too far. Brienne grabbed him by his armor and hauled him up with her amazonian like strength and he found himself all too close to her. A slight gasp escaped him. He thought she was going to say something, as much as her teeth worked her lips into a chapped mess, before she finally released him and began to stalk away. So a retreat today, was it?</p><p> </p><p>“What, no more insinuating I’m doing something nefarious, wench?” She didn’t even turn around as she let out an exasperated huff. It almost incensed him. </p><p> </p><p>No, actually, it did. It did very much.</p><p> </p><p>“The nerve of her…” Well, he didn’t have to tolerate her either. A dramatic swish of his white cloak, and he too stalked away from the grounds and into the grand halls. </p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Think of anything but him. Think of Renly if you must. Gods, why must he do this?! What purpose does it serve him?! </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Brienne’s thoughts were a muddled mess of anger and… and… The flush on her face was unreal, hells, she could just <em> feel  </em>her blood under all her skin. She touched the back of her cold hand to a cheek and could feel the fire for herself. <em> I feel like I’m burning from the inside out. </em>It took everything in her not to break out into a sprint to reach her rooms in this never ending nightmare of a castle. At least her brisk pace was aggressive enough to scare servants and nobility alike away. Ever since her journey came to an end here at the royal palace, things have been so... strange. Months ago, Catelyn had sent her to fend off the Lannister forces on behalf of her son, Robb Stark, the self-proclaimed King in the North. If Robb’s new title wasn’t enough of an explanation, their purpose was to declare independence. A noble cause, she thought, and it was why she agreed to fight for the wolves. It was during one particular battle she captured Jaime Lannister and thus brought him before her Lady, and a bargain was struck. An heir for an heir as it was. Catelyn cared not for conflict and was gathering surrounding houses to help back Robb when the time came for declaring their independence. A crucial step in the plan was retrieving her daughter from the crown. But the King’s council members, including Tywin as Hand, caught wind of their plans and saw it as an act of war and treated it as such. It wasn’t that the wolves lacked the political graces to avoid the scheming and infighting, but rather they were quick to action since the death of Ned Stark. </p><p> </p><p>No one could blame them. After all, Prince Joffrey had also been quick to drop the axe.</p><p> </p><p>The journey itself was an experience, having to escort the oathbreaker. Almost running into the Bloody Mummers was something she would never forget. They only evaded them because Brienne had forcefully kept him quiet. He had warned her of them approaching, what with his ability to sense their violence, and was urging her to give him a sword so they could fight and defend themselves. She saw it for the ruse it was. But did not doubt the danger. After all, she could feel it too. Keeping him caged under her in the foliage of their surroundings, the Bloody Mummers passed through unknowingly. The most distinct memory was his eyes. Like wildfyre they were. He was actively biting the hand that she put on his mouth, drawing blood. She merely frowned and pressed him harder into the dirt with the sheer weight of her body. There would be no escape today. Or thoughtless combat. Berserker that she was, her oaths came before anything. He eventually would learn that. The second odd encounter of their journey they saw a soothsayer who had come as quickly as she had left.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “The Wheel goes on. You will be cursed with the weight of Gold. And Roses will chase you to your end. Look to your Swords, learn of the other before it is too late.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>She disappeared in a swirl of leaves afterwards and Brienne took the words to heart, though the riddle left her stumped. Jamie only sneered. <em> “Liars. The whole lot of them.”  </em>She did not dare to ask more. Brienne couldn’t help but glance at where she kept hold of his own weapon. Much more happened afterwards. And in the end she was left confused. She still felt the man dishonorable, for he had stabbed his king in the back and his own family ransacked the people. But after the mummer incident his entire demeanor had changed. She would not call it kind, but his words held no bite most days. She did not trust him, but it was almost as though he trusted her. Brienne also witnessed him performing small acts of kindness for the surrounding people. She herself was the recipient of said kindness when they had come into the keep. When she was given room as demanded by Jaime, she had come to find several gowns and breeches laid on the bed. She thought it a mistake until the maid assured her Jaime had specified them for her and sent a letter simply saying, “<em>Hope I got the measurements right. You’re no bigger than me truly. Only taller. </em>”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> This is all too much to reminisce about right now. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Finally back in her own quarters, she began to strip. The weight of the armor falling off of her was a relief, but the weight of her dilemma still remained. A while after, she called for a bath to be brought up to her. Not even the warm water and oils could relax her. She sighed, head thumping against the lid of the tub. Dragging a cloth over her face, she stared at the stone ceiling, eyes travelling along the fine cracks in the bricks. Yes. This new development was strange. Anytime she was near him, her thoughts strayed into territory that only Renly had occupied before. He was a beautiful man, to be sure, but that was not enough to sway her heart anymore. No matter how much she blushed, her stance was firm. After all, those first few weeks of travel reminded her he was a man with no honor. And a right silver-tongued arse. <em> More like gold, with his family name. </em> She snorted, going back to washing herself more aggressively than necessary. The only conclusion she could come to is that he was worming his way into her thoughts via his powers. The Lannisters of Casterly Rock were an infamous group of sirens. Creatures that could lure one to their death or to do their bidding, they called for what the person wanted most. But few knew that sirens in themselves often had a particular call. Tywin’s was obvious, in his call for power and wealth. Tyrion, of wealth and knowledge. Cersei, of lust and beauty. But she had thought Jaime was of war and blood. He was a force to be reckoned with, his powers making his foes distracted and too wrought with the urge to fight that they left their blind-spots wide open.</p><p> </p><p>But sirens were all rooted in lust, weren’t they? If he was both lust and war, why was he choosing to seduce her? What could he gain from this other than making her leave without Sansa? Anytime she demanded him to stop, he feigned ignorance and would immediately make some sort of... Of... Sexual innuendo! Surely there was no other explanation for her sudden attraction to the man. She gripped the wash cloth tighter.</p><p> </p><p>Surely. </p><p> </p><p>Why else would he haunt her dreams at night?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Oh So Pretty - 1 (Modern: Secret MUA Jamie)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i picture them a bit closer in age here, brienne being like 22 and jamie 26. as a man who wears makeup and uh heavily id's with jam, i am in love with the idea that he wears it as well, in secret or otherwise.</p><p>tw for mentioned abuse (nondescriptive), homophobic language during the switch to jamie's pov.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Hold still wench-”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Jaime,</em> I swear to the Gods-”</p><p> </p><p>Brienne’s sigh was nothing short of an exasperated heave. In return, he let loose a curse under his breath. His left hand gripped her jaw tighter while his right was busy obscuring her vision as he tried once more to fix the wings on her liner. Her ass was starting to go numb from sitting on the toilet lid for twenty minutes now and she was quite certain there were fingertips bruised into her thighs with how hard she was gripping them. The tension was ridiculous.</p><p> </p><p>This was a position she never expected to be in.</p><p> </p><p>She took a slow, calming breath through her nose. Brienne was determined to keep her eyes on a spot behind him, refusing to look at his stupidly handsome face-<em> did he have to be so close </em>-and counted to ten. The tacky red and gold wallpaper in the bathroom was so ugly she almost wished she was making intimate eye contact instead. Almost being the key word there. Many thought her a paragon of patience and virtue for one reason or another, but even she knew better. As competitive and easily worked up as she could get? Come on. So how on Earth she let Jaime talk her into this, she didn’t know, but she was regretting it the more it dragged on.</p><p> </p><p>(She did know. He’s her best friend, why wouldn’t she do this for him?)</p><p> </p><p>It all started six months ago. The summer after the accident that had left him with a scarred hand and a new morbid outlook on life. </p><p> </p><p>Jaime had told her he was out visiting family and wouldn’t be able to meet up for dinner. Brienne offered to book them a later reservation. He insisted she go on without him. Take Sansa, or Margaery. Seeing Aunt Genna was always a time consuming affair, she had a lot to gossip about and no one to gossip to. At this point in their friendship, they were more like <em> frenemies. </em> They were both fresh out of college and working in the same office as interns. He had gotten in via family connections, and her by grit and determination with a hefty recommendation letter from Professor Stark. Honestly it was straight up enemies at first, with him mistaking her for a man. He didn’t let up on it for <em> weeks</em>, always calling her “Brien” or “Ser” in his emails.</p><p> </p><p>But when no one else could help him, she had been there. Brienne was a good person, or so she liked to think. How could she not? It opened a new door of trust between the two. Jaime had told her about Aerys and Cersei, and in time Brienne told him about the bet and her own losses. As a result, they grew so close she now had a key to his flat. Brienne had the most brilliant idea to sneak in and set up a nice dinner. </p><p> </p><p>There was nothing unusual about her going to his residence when he wasn’t home, she’d done it before in the early days of his recovery to help set him up for meals when he couldn’t bother. So it wouldn’t be weird for her to do this nice gesture, right? It was important to celebrate the milestones of said recovery. He <em> did </em> just get all the pins and screws removed from his hand.</p><p> </p><p>Finally finding the resolve to just get up and do the damn thing, Brienne went out to buy the makings for his favorite meal and hurried before she could doubt herself anymore. <em> If Jaime could see me now, he'd flip, </em> she thought as she sped through a yellow light. She was unlocking the door, swinging it open as she hefted the grocery bags in her arm to keep them from falling in her frantic hurry to get in. <em> It’s five now but he said he might be back around seven. He’ll probably find some reason to leave soon but I should still have plenty of time- </em></p><p> </p><p>The sound of a shocked gasp made her hault.</p><p> </p><p>Jaime was not at Genna’s.</p><p> </p><p>There he was, kneeling in front of the coffee table with an assortment of- were those makeup palettes? Before she could even speak, he bolted, and the sound of his bedroom door slamming shut filled the air.</p><p> </p><p>Jaime was <em> not </em> at Genna’s. </p><p> </p><p>The bags hit the floor. Jaime had makeup in front of him. Jaime was wearing said makeup and her first thought was <em> Gods he’s unfairly beautiful </em> and then it was <em> I’ve made a huge mistake. </em>She walked in on something she wasn’t meant to see. Brienne looked down at the key still in her hand and a sick wave of guilt crept in. This was- She didn’t know how to formulate the thought really. This was something he should have had a choice in telling her about? She felt like she abused his trust with this key? This was something he shouldn’t have to feel afraid about? She was friends with Renly and Loras, the infamous Drag Queen duo. So why wouldn’t he feel safe to share this with her?</p><p> </p><p>Some of the thoughts felt selfish. And she knew they were. He wasn’t obligated to share anything unwillingly. Only one thing was certain, she couldn’t just <em> leave. </em> They had just built this friendship. The idea that it might be no more because of this devastated her. Gods they worked in the same office, under the same manager, she wouldn't even be able to avoid him if she wanted to.</p><p> </p><p>The muffled sounds of anguish coming from the bedroom broke her from her trance, and Brienne made her way to him. She couldn’t make it all out, but she could hear Jaime talking to himself in his own state of panic. The words “freak” and “idiot” said multiple times. Her heart hurt for him.</p><p> </p><p>Gently, she laid a hand on the door to steady herself, and called out. Her tone was riddled with worry, but soft.</p><p> </p><p>“Jaime…? I…” She gulped, “I’m sorry for- for just showing up… Do you want to talk? You don’t have to come out if you don’t want to, we can just… talk like this if that makes you feel better.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> How do you comfort someone about something like this? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>----</p><p> </p><p><em> No, no, fuck, she saw me- </em> His knuckles were bone white as his hands clenched the comforter. He had collapsed, sitting sprawled on the edge of the bed and let his hands ball up in the blankets. Searching for something, anything, to ground himself. <em> There’s no way to fix this, is there? </em> A gruesome pain lanced through his right hand, making him curse out loud. Jaime glared down at the appendage, all twisted up in scars. An overwhelming flood of emotions hit him and he found himself shaking. </p><p> </p><p>Fear. Anger. Sadness.</p><p> </p><p>Jaime was already on the verge of a breakdown as it was, <em> of course </em> Brienne would drop by as a surprise to push him over the edge. He had just applied the mascara, <em> of course </em> he can cry now. He barked a short laugh at the stupidity of it all, aggressively wiping away the tears that were falling. Glancing into the mirror across the room, he grimaced at the streaks running down his cheeks and into the neckline of his shirt. Everything was ruined. His secret of secrets was out now. It was maybe the one thing he intended to take to his grave, but he supposed someone would have found out eventually. </p><p> </p><p>Jaime just didn’t let himself think about it. After all, his entire persona was staked in a typecast role of unwavering masculinity playing a millionaire heir bad boy. It wasn’t like he could casually mention he enjoyed dressing up in flamboyant and silken looks because he and Cersei used to swap outfits as children. That when they were a little older, she would put eyeshadow and lipstick on him. </p><p> </p><p>He couldn’t just say that even when they were ten and she turned around lightning fast and said 'boys don’t do that' that he continued to do it anyway when she wasn’t home. Or that when his father caught him at twelve he wasn’t allowed to do anything without supervision for years after. There was no leaving the house either because of the marks still on his arm from Tywin dragging him to the sink. <em> "Wash this off," </em>  he had said, <em> "this is beyond shameful. No son of mine will be a-" </em></p><p> </p><p>Jaime’s eyes snapped shut, refusing to recall the horrific memory. Things were bad enough.</p><p> </p><p>He had small hopes that one day the Aerys incident from his college days would be fully unveiled, that even if he couldn’t be public about Cersei he could tell his future spouse about her. Hell, those hopes were only possible even because of Brienne. Miss goody two shoes and upstanding morals had looked him in the eyes and said those things weren’t anything to be hated for when he came clean in a painkiller induced haze. He had been seeing a therapist for months to no avail, but something about another person believing in him that wasn’t paid to tell him everything will be fine had finally made the hours he put in worth it. </p><p> </p><p>So why he didn’t tell her about his moonlighting as a makeup artist, he couldn’t say, but it was a part of himself that he was too afraid to open up about to <em> anyone</em>. It was perhaps the <em> one </em> part of his life he had complete control over and could really do with as he pleased. At least, that sounds like something his therapist would say. If he told them, even.</p><p> </p><p>So when he heard her voice, he didn’t know what to do. What to say. What was there <em> to </em> say? Shouldn’t she have run off by now?</p><p> </p><p>“Jaime…? I don’t want to force you to talk- I just-” She floundered over her words some more. It was the most fumbling speech he’d heard since she told him about Ronnet and Hyle. Shouldn’t he be the one crumbling?</p><p> </p><p>“What’s there to talk about?” The words were harsh, grating even to his ears. Laced with disbelief and a simmering anger. “You barged into my place and saw me acting like a crossdressing fag-” He couldn’t bring himself to even finish the hateful words. The rage fell flat just as soon as it started. No, he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. He'd rather just… forget all of this.</p><p> </p><p>(Not that he ever would.)</p><p> </p><p>“Go on, say your piece and get the hell out. I won’t fight you on it… for once.”</p><p> </p><p>The door swung open-<em> shit why didn’t he lock the door </em>-and there she was. </p><p> </p><p>Her face was fierce with an emotion he couldn't place and her cheeks red, he was expecting a heated tirade. What he did <em> not </em> expect was to be abruptly pulled up and into a tight embrace. Her strong arms cradling him, always gentle, as one of her hands came up to the back of his neck. He froze at the soft back and forth motion of her thumb. </p><p> </p><p>“Jamie, you can kick me out and tell me to fuck off but I <em> will not </em> sit here and let you think I hate you all of a sudden. I’m a little confused, mostly surprised, but you don’t have to tell me what this is. You are my friend. I haven’t thought of you as a bad person for some time now, even <em> before </em> you told me about Aerys. Your actions told me that, even if I was still wary of you. You <em> were </em> and <em> are </em> an absolute ass sometimes but…. But I’m not going to think you’re a bad person starting now and <em> certainly </em> not for something like this. Never for something like this.”</p><p> </p><p>If it had been anyone else, he may have argued on.</p><p> </p><p>Instead, he buried his face into the crook of her neck, arms wrapped tight around her torso. He clung onto her for dear life. He surrendered to the care she gave. Later, after staying that way for who knows how long, she would ask him for a new sweater since hers was now covered in runny foundation. Later, they would end up on the couch. She would listen yet again as he told her another secret as he poked and prodded at all the brushes still set out. </p><p> </p><p>Brienne was cautious with her questions, but he readily answered. Jaime was secure in his identity as a man, but this was strangely an integral part of his person. Considering the… <em> complex </em> relationship he had with Cersei, was it really that strange though? Toxic as she was, she had shown him a form of self-expression that refused to stop. Even after the brief abuse he endured before he hid it away from prying eyes for good. Jaime even told Brienne the reason he was so emotional about it was because his hand just wasn’t steady enough anymore and it didn’t look right. He had spent over two hours just trying to do his eyes, but it wasn’t the same. And it never would be again.</p><p> </p><p>She would have to remind him exactly who he was friends with, and that she never once cared about rigorous gender roles. <em> “I mean look at me, my entire life was about defying gender stereotypes at first before learning I could be feminine and not feel guilty for it just because I'm not soft and dainty.” </em> He would be quite bashful about it, but trauma doesn’t exactly care for logic and she knew that just as well. After all was said and done, it was pure relief to have shown this part of himself to another. It felt good. To be accepted. To know that her acceptance wasn't conditional. </p><p> </p><p>To feel loved, even.</p><p> </p><p>----</p><p> </p><p>So here she was, sitting in his bathroom with studio grade lighting while he continued doing her makeup. His reasoning was that he needed the practice and what better way than to do someone else's to help steady his hands. He even asked that she help with his, because he was tired of not looking perfect and he <em> knew </em> that <em> she </em> knew how to put it on regardless of the fact she hardly wore more than lip gloss and concealer.</p><p> </p><p>Brienne was mortified at the intimacy of it all.</p><p> </p><p>She was just <em> surrounded </em> by him. Putting on the eyeshadow had been the absolute worst. Being unable to see him, it was like all her other senses had heightened. The warm callous of his hand on her cheek as he steadied himself, the smell of his aftershave. Every now and then he leaned in a little too closely and she felt a stray lock of his golden hair brush against her skin.</p><p> </p><p>“When I said I’d help you, I didn’t think you would actually want to put it on me-” He cut her off again.</p><p> </p><p>“Shush, you said you’d help and that’s what you’re doing,” his voice took on a higher pitch as he imitated her, <em> “Jamie you should really keep up on your physical therapy if you wanna keep your mobility.” </em> He stopped, checking his progress. “I think this is a perfectly good stand-in, don’t you? Fine motor control and all that other bullshit.”</p><p> </p><p>“I do <em> not </em> sound like that,” she mumbled, unable to find a flaw in his argument. Ten minutes away from him and maybe she could think straight enough to tell him why this wasn’t a good idea without dragging her own insecurities into the mix. She was happy with how she looked, <em> honest,</em> her body was a good body no matter how “unconventional.” <em> Oh how she hated that word. </em> But to actively compare herself to others? It was hard not to fall back into good ol’ self deprecation.</p><p> </p><p>Finally satisfied with the outcome, he nudged for her to get up and stand next to him. “Now’s when you praise me and tell me what a good job I did, wench. You’re going to like it.”</p><p> </p><p>Another grumble, and she stood up, stretching her limbs out and doing her best not to scrunch her face up and ruin all his efforts. Standing side by side now, she didn’t look at herself, at first. Jamie was looking at her in the mirror, dazzling and golden as ever. His hair was loosely tied back, showing off the shimmery highlighter on his high cheekbones. The look was simple but so extravagant, with a velvety red matte lipstick and glittering, amber eyeshadow. </p><p> </p><p>“Any day now, Brienne,” he smirked at her, hand on his hip. She was glad for the concealer. Maybe it would hide her blush. Holding her breath, she looked.</p><p> </p><p>And let out all the air at once.</p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t what she expected. It wasn’t over the top, or as much as she had thought. The concealer was so light she could still see her myriad of freckles. The barest hint of highlighter on her own cheeks and nose. Her lips looked kissable instead of punched, covered in gloss. But it was her eyes that were the centerpiece. Framed in a beautiful dark blue with a metallic silver crease, a star at each outer corner of her eye. It wasn’t like she never did her makeup before, but she didn’t think to do a style like this.</p><p> </p><p>For all his talk of how it'd never be the same, it all looked wonderful.</p><p> </p><p>“The praise, wench, where is it?”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re right. I do like it.”</p><p> </p><p>Jaime’s answering smile was both prideful and mischievous. While she was admiring her own reflection, he had slipped an arm around her shoulders pulling her close. It was like looking at the radiant sun and the glowing moon.</p><p> </p><p>A slight epiphany had occurred. This wasn't some magical makeover that made the ugly duckling a swan. Brienne would always be built with strong and mismatched features. But before this moment, she thought being called singular was a poor attempt at making her feel seen. Now? Something about this look made her think twice. </p><p> </p><p>He pulled her closer still, his body pressed to hers from thigh to chest. “See? I told you this was helping. We look good together... Don't you think so?” Jamie laid his head on her shoulder, tucking his face just so under her cheek. </p><p> </p><p>Well, that’s one way to find out the concealer didn’t hide her blush. </p><p> </p><p>She rolled her eyes. "Now you're just fishing," she teased. “Oh, wait a second, you have a-” She didn’t finish her sentence. It was an easy enough thing to fix. So she turned slightly, making Jamie look up at her, startled by their closeness. She reached up to swipe the fallout from the glitter that was near his mouth.</p><p> </p><p>It didn't hide his either.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>in case the end pose is unclear, it kinda looks like they're about to kiss or something, idk. anything to put these two in physical proximity to make 'em blush.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. What if Brienne Snapped? (Canon Divergence)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hastily written bUT i kinda always wondered what if brienne snapped at something else instead of when renly gets brought up. i would imagine brienne to be pretty capable of being crude or gross but she chooses not to bc... well why would she? she's got no reason half the time.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em> Does he ever shut up? </em> Brienne thinks, as they surge onto the river bank. Her arms are sore from rowing, her skin is chafing under the ill fitting armor, and chafing even more are his invasive questions. His bold statements. How many words could he think of to replace “dour” or “pig-headed” were his previous goals, now he’s upped the ante. Never in her life has she heard someone speak so much. Not even the bards of her childhood spoke so many words in a moon’s turn. While she’s yanking him about and pushing him up the rocky ledge, he just <em> keeps on talking. </em>They’ve hardly just started this journey together. Jaime is determined to whittle down her patience to sawdust. </p><p> </p><p>It seems it’s all he knows how to do is blabber on, like he can’t stand the thought of silence. Or peace. Or peaceful silence. Maybe it’s the only way he feels in control of the situation. Brienne then realized she has, most unfortunately, overestimated her level-headedness. She had sworn quietly to herself, aloud to him, that he would not provoke her to anger. But he just wouldn’t cease. Her sanity was at stake.</p><p> </p><p>“-overpower you, fling you down, tear off your clothes… None of them were strong enough.” That arrogant smirk again. “<em>I’m </em> strong enough.”</p><p> </p><p>“Not interested.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Of course </em> you are! You’d love to know what it feels like to be a woman.”</p><p> </p><p>Something in her snapped. Not out of her mind, or what have you. This particular topic made her think of Renly’s camp all over again. Of all the times she was made fun of for her muscled appearance, her giant stature, her small teats, and even her crooked teeth. Those same lechers still had the audacity to bet on her maidenhead. Well you know what? If that’s how the Kingslayer wanted to play, she was more than happy to oblige.</p><p> </p><p>Jaime was climbing the ledge to get to solid ground while she hung back a few feet. Brienne placed her hands on her hips, looking up at him as he tried to scramble up the hill with his hands shackled. Really assessing him while she thought of what to say. Even under the filth ridden clothes, she could see the wiry muscle he retained. His athleticism alive and well as he vaulted himself further up. He had spent a year in imprisonment, so he was weakened. However, the same weak man had strangled Lord Karstark’s son while he was tied at the bottom of a post.</p><p> </p><p>It was worth the risk.</p><p> </p><p>“Well are you just going to stand there watching me as I climb or-” </p><p> </p><p>“Do it then.”</p><p> </p><p>He stopped, inquisitive emerald eyes peering over his shoulder. “Beg pardon?”</p><p> </p><p>“Overpower me. Fling me down. Tear off my clothes.” She enunciated every word, a fiery rage lighting her up from the inside. Her brows were drawn so far down, she could feel the weight of her frown.</p><p> </p><p>Sliding down back to the bank, he was a mere foot from her now. So she continued.</p><p> </p><p>“You smell like shit, and your breath worse off, Gods know what your cock is covered in... But you’re pretty enough, Kingslayer. So… <em> Do it. </em>”</p><p> </p><p>Brienne watched as Jamie’s eyes seemed to darken with- was it anger? Disbelief? She couldn’t name it. All she knew is that for once Jamie was silent. Her eyes traveled further down to his lips, his mouth slightly agape with unspoken words. Further down, she watched his throat move with the effort of swallowing down whatever retort he may have had. The more her eyes traveled downward, the more tense he became. In the clench of his hands, to the flex of his thighs. Poised to strike, though he made no move.</p><p> </p><p>She likely looked the same way, her spine ramrod straight as she imposed her height over him. The hands at her hips were firm, her fingers twitching. <em> If he thinks he’s so capable, then let him try. I have killed rapists before. I can learn to keep them alive. </em></p><p> </p><p>Dragging her gaze back up, she leaned in a touch closer. It was hard keeping her face in a snarl instead of puckering in disgust. <em> Gods, he reeks. </em> Sensing he wasn’t bound to move, much less say anything, she made to speak again. <em> Why are his eyes nearly black? Have I mentally tortured him with the idea of me stripped? </em> That thought would normally make a pang of hurt ring through her mind… But the silence was so <em> satisfactory </em>. </p><p> </p><p>“I don’t see any hands sliding under my armor, so let’s move on.”</p><p> </p><p>Grabbing the chains, she led the way. Up the hill, and to the road, he would remain blissfully silent for all of ten minutes until they would come across the three miserable souls strung up in the trees.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>She would cut down three wretched souls for their atrocities. <em> Two quick deaths…  </em></p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>Jaime was watching her back, Brienne unaware as she buried the girls. There was a name to the feeling. When she had challenged him to have his way with her. He dare not name it. She had come so close, he could have grabbed one of the two swords she wore. The memory of her eyes roving over his body wouldn’t escape him. He shivered, not because of the wind. A dangerous thought was bouncing around in the depths of his consciousness. He wasn’t so sure it was about stealing the sword.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> If only I were strong enough.</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>cue some changes over the course of events i.e, jamie figures out real quick he's in lust and then it's in love. this was also inspired by a dumb meme my brain wouldn't stop making.</p><p>The Warrior in Brienne's Mind: Aren't you tired of being nice?? Don't you just wanna go apeshit??</p><p>Brienne: what the fUCK is UP jamie step the FUCK up- NO what did you say??</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>there will prob be follow up chapters to some of these, out of order until i decide to make it a separate story someday. also pardon for any continuity issues or anything of the like, anytime i write i'm delirious with sleep deprivation lmfao. edits will probably be made as these go on.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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